A couple months ago, an English colleague asked if I wanted to go with her and her students to see Hucklberry Finn, playing in English at a theater in Paris. I jumped on the occasion and said "yes" as if I were living the student life where I didn't have any other engagements, where I spent every evening attending plays, classical music concerts, frequenting happy hour, dipping my palate in the latest local restaurant, or cooking dinner with friends at home. Back then I had the energy to do these things and I didn't have piles of laundry, kids to bathe, an apartment that needed picking up every night. I casually forgot about how hectic our weeknights were when I said yes to going to this play. And, not only did I say yes for myself, but also for Etienne because in my mind, we could easily find a babysitter (never mind that it's never easy and that the only one we have has classes during weeknights). Yes, I failed, or neglected to remember, as I jumped on the opportunity to say 'yes', all of the difficulties saying yes to such a proposition would entail. Instead, I paid the 20 euros and put it out of my mind (while noting it on my agenda just thinking that a babysitter would just show up by the time the play date came around).
I don't know if you can imagine our lives. But, I am going to try and paint a picture of our typical evening. At 4:30, promptly after getting off work either sitting in class the whole day or teaching 60 junior high students, which demands an incredible amount of energy, I go and get Gab from school and then we go and get Louise from the daycare. That takes about half an hour total. When we walk in around 5, what I want to do is sit down and check my e-mail, unwind a little, but if I do that, it usually ends up with two kids literally pulling at my shirt, at my pants screaming "mommy", Louise climbing up on the dining room table about to throw down the wedding china (that we haven't had time to put away because of our other priorities, mainly the daily grind with the kids) from a dinner we had with a friend 3 weeks ago, Gab deciding to help himself to the cereal that was supposed to be put away from this morning's breakfast and etc, etc, etc, it's endless. Then, giving up on the idea of doing something for myself until the kids go to bed, I am confronted with the huge, mountaneous pile of laundry in our room. As I start to fold it and spend 30 min. doing so, Gab calls me to the kitchen to help him get his art supplies out. When I come back to the laundry, Louise has unfolded all of my work. Then I go to the living room, and all of the toys are strewn everywhere- Louise has obviously been here. Without taking the time to clean up, I head to the kitchen to put on dinner, plopping the kids in the bath on my way. Not 5 min. into the dinner preparation, I hear Louise screaming in the bath saying she wants down, so I have to stop what I'm doing, wash her up, get her dressed and head back to the kitchen, only this time, Louise clings to my leg crying. 5 min. later, Gab wants out of his bath. A 30 min. meal ends up taking an hour. We eat, do the bedtime ritual of teeth and reading a book and we put the kids to bed and breathe a breath of fresh air when the kids are in bed, or are they? We spend the next 30 min. putting them to bed again, while trying to pick up the living room and kitchen in-between. Usually, by 8:30, we are pretty safe and can relax. The only problem is that the only thing I want to do by that time is go to bed!
So, confronted by this type of routine every night, when Tuesday night, the night of the play, came along, the last thing I wanted to do was go out and sit through a play when there were so many things to be done at home. And, I knew that if I didn't do them, they would pile up and I would be even more stressed. We didn't find a babysitter (well, I didn't really look because I don't know who to call), but I told E he had to stay with the kids. But, when Tuesday came around, I wasn't feeling the play and didn't know how to tell my colleague that I wasn't coming after already telling her that E wasn't coming. So, what do I do? I leave a message saying that Etienne was tired of watching the kids and that I really felt that I should be at home with Louise having the chicken pox and all. It wasn't a complete misrepresentation of the truth. E was tired of watching Louise all day and then having to do our whole evening ritual alone (because we usually experience the chaos together). But, I wasn't truthful that I was really the one who wanted to stay at home, that I gave up an evening in a Parisian theater watching one of my favorite books transformed into a play because I would rather get caught up on folding laundry so as not to get behind. Where have the times gone? My colleague was not very happy today when I apologized again and I felt badly about being one of those people who says she's going to come and then bails out at the last minute. I should have said no from the very start.
I never used to understand those who would plan things and then have something else come up, usually family oriented, or those who would "never come out". But, that was when I was only living for myself and had my own schedule. Honestly, if someone called me up right now to go to our favorite Indian restaurant, I'd have to think twice- not because I don't want to, but because I don't feel like it. Even all the naan bread in the world couldn't give me enough energy to go out on a weeknight. Is it normal that I dread the after party at weddings so much? For normal people, it means party time; to me, it means 'oh no, I have to stay up unil 2 am, how am I going to manage?' When did I turn into such a lame person?
Hopefully, it will pass, but until then, I better stop making obligations that I can't keep, or that I think I can keep because I have a totally unrealistic vision of myself.
